


19.) Just Don't Know What to Do With Myself

by lovelessinmanhattan



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Feels, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Relationship(s), absence makes the heart grow fonder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-14 22:38:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21023384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelessinmanhattan/pseuds/lovelessinmanhattan
Summary: Aleister fucking Crowley. Of course. I’m furious that I didn’t see this coming.I should’ve known that the Mage was behind this. That he was the one who fucked with Watford and made it disappear, or whatever the hell he did.And I’m sure this is quite the sight; Simon and I, standing together, his hand on my back, my wand raised. Fiona, a couple feet behind us, leaning up against the car, petting the fucking cat.It’s a nightmare.





	19.) Just Don't Know What to Do With Myself

**Author's Note:**

> hello everyone! i'm back, writing another chapter for the round robin. i've had so much fun writing both of my chapters, and i'm so grateful i got to participate. a huge thank you to @basic-banshee/@basicbathsheba for organizing this, and thank you to @CarryonSimonCarryonBaz for beta reading this last minute! my trope was absence makes the heart grow fonder <3  
title is from The White Stripes - I Just Don't Know What to Do With Myself

**Baz**

Aleister fucking Crowley. _ Of course. _ I’m furious that I didn’t see this coming.

I should’ve known that the Mage was behind this. That he was the one who fucked with Watford and made it disappear, or whatever the hell he did.

And I’m sure this is quite the sight; Simon and I, standing together, his hand on my back, my wand raised. Fiona, a couple feet behind us, leaning up against the car, petting the fucking cat.

It’s a nightmare.

Simon lowers his sword and takes a step away from me. He swallows nervously and runs a hand through his hair. “Sir.”

“Simon,” The Mage says. He looks over at me. “Mr. Pitch.”

I give a curt nod. 

“Welcome back,” he says to both of us. “I hope it wasn’t too hard to get here.”

“Only as hard as you made it,” I murmur. Snow kicks me in the shin.

Simon clears his throat. “Everything went well. We got here safely.”

“Good, good…” The Mage is nodding his approval. “Simon, if you don’t mind, I need to talk with you. Alone.”

“Okay, yeah,” he says. “Let me just get my things…” His voice trails off. He points to the car.

“Hurry now.”

“Right,” Simon says, and then he’s speed walking towards the car. I run after him. 

"Simon!”

He throws the trunk open and reaches in to grab his bags. “What?”

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” I mutter.

“What? Why?”

“Simon, he made Watford fucking disappear! I don’t know what he wants or why the bloody hell he did that, but--”

“But, Baz. He’s my _ mentor _.”

“Yes, I know. But he also wants me dead!”

“Okay, fine, so maybe going alone with him isn’t the greatest idea,” Simon huffs. “But I’m sure it won’t take long. I’ll be back in no time, and then we can make a plan or something, yeah?”

“I guess…”

“Hey,” he whispers, and suddenly I wish that the Mage and Fiona were gone, and that we were alone. 

He’d kiss me if we were alone. He’d hold my hand and run his fingers through my hair, and I wouldn’t have to be so afraid. So cautious and careful.

Simon takes my hand (he checked to make sure the Mage can’t see us). He takes my hand, and he presses our foreheads together, and he whispers, “I’ll be back soon. I promise.”

And then he takes his belongings and leaves. Follows the Mage through the gates and up the hill and across the courtyard. 

“I have a bad feeling about this,” I say to Fiona. “A very bad feeling.” 

She nods in agreement. “Don’t get killed, boyo. Be careful.” 

Fiona helps me get my trunk out of the car. We bid our goodbyes, and then she leaves. She leaves, and I’m left alone at the gates of Watford. 

I lay a hand on the bars, letting it feel my magick. They swing open, and I trudge across campus. I spelled my trunk so it floats behind me, and Simon (the cat) walks a few feet ahead of me. He leads us all the way to our room, up the spiral staircases and through narrow halls.

It’s weird being here without Simon.

He’s usually here before me. Always stayed in the care homes during the summer, and was the first to get here. He’d always have the window open when I got in, and he’d keep opening it, just to piss me off. (It worked.)

I open the window.

It’s not terribly cold out, so I don’t mind having it open. It feels normal. It lets me pretend that everything is fine. That Simon is okay, and that _ we _ are okay.

Except…

Hours have gone by, and Snow still isn’t back.

He said we would meet for lunch, and yet, he’s nowhere in sight. That’s how I _ know _ something isn’t right.

Simon Snow would _ never _ skip a meal. He loves food almost as much as I love him. Which is a lot. 

If Simon Snow isn’t at lunch, then surely things didn’t go well with the Mage.

I try to do what Simon does. I try not to think about it. I try not to think about him, but it’s so fucking hard.

He stayed with me all summer. We kissed and held hands, and went to the shops together. He kissed me until my mouth was sore, until I _ had _ to stop. (I never wanted to stop.)

Simon Snow went with the Mage, my family’s enemy. And mine too, I suppose. The Mage knows about us. He knows how close Simon and I have gotten.

I bet he’ll do anything to stop it.

Maybe he’ll convince Simon that I’m evil. Or maybe Simon still thinks I’m evil. Maybe he still hates my fucking guts, and he lied about everything he’s ever said to me… 

No. I can’t think about that. I don’t want to.

I don’t want to think about everything that could happen.

But I do anyways.

Because that’s the reality. 

Simon Snow and I were never going to work out. I don’t know why we thought we could. I don’t know why we tried.

_ But I do know… _

It’s because I love him. I would cross every line for him, and I know he would do the same for me. We thought it would work because we wanted it to. We thought we could make it work.

Crowley, imagine if we could make it work. I’d be living a charmed life. (I am now, to an extent. Simon Snow _ wants _ me. That in itself is a miracle.)

Imagine if my parents knew. If the Mage knew. If everyone knew.

We could be happy, I think. If there wasn’t a war.

But there is a war. We can’t change that. We can’t change anything.

I know I want this to work. And Simon wants this to work. I hope we can make things work out. I hope that we can be happy someday. 

Because right now, I don’t know if we can.

  


**Simon**

Nothing good happens in the Mage’s office. Ever.

“Take a seat,” he says to me as soon as we enter.

I sit, on the edge of chair. My foot’s tapping the ground, nervously. The Mage has never looked this upset…

“I hear that you’ve been spending a lot of time with that Pitch boy,” he says.

I nod. “Yes, sir.”

“Have you been talking with him a lot?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Has he told you anything? Anything we could use against him and his family?”

“No, sir.”

The Mage is stalling and I don’t know why. I wish he would just hurry up and get this over with. I’m not sure how long I can last.

“It seems to me that you and your roommate have gotten dangerously close over the last year,” he says. 

“Weren’t you the one who always said Baz and I should be as close as brothers? Isn’t that what you told me when I begged for a new roommate?”

“Yes, I did say that. But, I think you and Mr. Pitch are closer than brothers, if you know what I mean.”

Yup. Yeah. Yep. I know exactly what he fucking means.

“Sir, what’s your point? I can stay away from Baz, if you want.” (That’s a lie.) “I can talk to him less.” (Also a lie.) “Or, I could even spy on him. Get intel. Report back and tell you what the Old Families are planning.” (That one’s _ definitely _ a lie.)

The Mage thinks for a moment.

My legs are shaking now. I can feel my magick leaking.

I’m _ nervous _.

Crowley, send help.

“All of that sounds wonderful, really,” the Mage says, meeting my eyes. “But, I’m afraid that he won’t be truthful. And that you won’t be truthful.”

“What? Sir, why wouldn’t I be--”

“Simon, I’ve heard the rumors going around. Several students have told me. They’ve expressed fear, Simon. Fear of what would happen to you if you dated that Pitch boy.”

“Sir…”

He keeps going. “I told them I would take care of it. And I will. I’m going to do just that.”

“How exactly are you going to do that, sir?”

I’m afraid to ask. I’m afraid of his answer. 

I’m afraid that he’ll hurt Baz, and it’ll be all my fault. (If only I hadn’t taken Baz to the stupid ball…Then we wouldn’t be in this mess.)

“I want you to leave Watford.”

_ What? _

Did I hear that right?

He wants me to _ leave _?

“Um. What? Sir, you can’t be serious.”

“I am being serious. I want you to leave Watford. I think you’ll be safe somewhere else.”

“What about my lessons? My training?”

“You won’t need any of that. I’ll give you private lessons, though, if you insist.”

“Yes, I do insist-- Hey, wait a second!”

The Mage stares at me.

“Yes, Simon?”

“What if I don’t want to leave? Did you think about that?”

“This is not your choice to make, Simon. This is mine. You will be leaving Watford.”

He wants me to leave. The Mage wants me to leave Watford.

He doesn’t just want me to leave. He’s fucking _ making _ me leave. He’s forcing me away, like some child who needs to be protected and sheltered. 

What the actual fuck?

“Sir, can’t we talk this out? Can’t I get a new roommate instead? Isn’t leaving Watford a bit dramatic? And what about the Old Families? I’m sure they’ll figure out that you’re planning something. Baz’ll be sure to tell them.”

“Good,” the Mage says. “Let him tell the Old Families. We’re ready to fight. The time to make a move is now.”

“_ What _? Sir, we can’t just charge headfirst into a war! Are you crazy?”

I’m afraid I’ll start yelling soon, so I lean back into my chair and take a few deep breaths.

Why can’t he see that this is a bad idea?

  
I can’t leave Watford! Baz is here. Penny is here. All of my friends are here. My education is here. Magick is here.

_ I _ belong here, at Watford, and not in some stupid cave, or wherever the Mage is planning to take me.

He can’t make me leave. I won’t let him.

“Simon. You’re older now, wiser. You’re braver and stronger. I need you to understand that something must change. There is a war coming whether you like it or not, and this is the only way I can keep you safe.”

“I thought I was supposed to fight, along with you. I was supposed to help, remember? How can I help if I’m miles away?”

“You can help by being patient. Your time to fight will come. But for now, you must listen. You have to do what I say. I’m the only one who can help you. Haven’t I been of aid all these years?”

I hate to admit it, but the Mage has a point.

He’s been the only one I can trust. He knows what he’s talking about. He’s kept me safe so far.

But leaving Watford?

I don’t know…

“When would we leave?” I ask. “If I did go with you, when would we leave? Would I have time to say goodbye to my friends?”

The Mage starts to smile. “We would leave at once. And there wouldn’t be time to say goodbye. We have to move quickly if we’re going to.”

I don’t want to go. I _ really _ don’t. 

And I feel bad for leaving. I want to go and find Baz and Penny, and tell them what’s happening. But I can’t. I don’t have a choice. I never will.

“Okay,” I say. “I…I’ll go with you.”

This is the only way to keep Penny safe. It’s the only way to keep Baz safe. I’m only doing this because it’s the right thing to do.

“Excellent!” The Mage grabs his wand off his desk. Clothes fly out of his closet and into a bag, and then he makes our luggage float in the air.

“Ready?” he asks, and I nod. I’m too afraid to speak. So I don’t.

_ Goodbye, Baz, _ I think. _ Goodbye, Watford. _

  


**Baz**

Simon _ still _ isn’t back. It’s been hours and hours and he still isn’t here, and fuck, I’m getting worried. Even more so than before.

I decide to take a walk. Try and find Bunce. Maybe she’ll know what’s happening. (The cat follows me. Of course he fucking does. All he’s good for is following people.

We find her in the library, hunched over at one of the tables, with several piles of books surrounding her.

“Bunce,” I say, taking a seat across from her.

She looks up. “Baz, what are you doing here?”

“I was wondering if you could help me.”

“With what?”

“Do you know where Simon is? I haven’t seen him since this morning, when the Mage took him.

“The Mage _ took _ him?”

“Not exactly. The Mage wanted to talk to Simon. Alone. They went up to his office, I think. Simon said it wouldn’t take long.”

“Oh, Baz…,” Penny says, looking down at her notes.

“What? What is it?”

“I saw Simon and the Mage earlier. And they were…They were leaving.”

I almost don’t believe her. “Leaving? No…”

Penny nods. “I thought I had imagined it. They just left! Walked right out the gates. I hoped that the Mage was forcing him, but Baz…I don’t know.” She takes her glasses off and sets them on the table.

“Simon’s gone.”

Penny nods again. 

And then, all of a sudden she’s standing and waving her hand around. The books fly back to their place on the shelves, and she shoves her notes into her bag.

“I…I need to go,” she says. I think she’s crying. 

“Penelope, wait!” I call out after her, but she ignores me. I watch as she runs out the doors and down the steps. 

Fuck.

Aleister fucking Crowley.

I should’ve believed drunk Simon when he said I wasn’t worth it.

Simon Snow doesn’t actually want me, I’m convinced. 

He left. He left with the Mage! With the man who wants me dead! Who knows what he’ll say to convince Simon. 

No…

Simon already believes him.

Simon knows that I’m dangerous. He knows that I’m a vampire, a monster, something that should be killed.

Does that mean the past year has been a lie? Does that mean that all the kissing meant nothing? Does my love mean nothing to Simon Snow?

Apparently. 

Bloody hell, he’s probably been gossiping to the Mage the past year. Told him all my secrets, all my family’s secrets.

I want to believe that Simon Snow would never do that. But it’s so fucking hard when he runs off with his mentor.

Fuck Simon Snow.

I don’t need him. I managed to get through four years of school without him. He hated me all those years. He still does. I’m sure of it.

All my life, I’ve been told to be careful playing around with fire. 

It started when I was young, and my mother was first teaching me how to light a flame. She told me not to get too close, that it would burn me if I touched it.

Father scolded me whenever I used my fire magick. 

_ “Basil, you are flammable,” _ he’d say.

I’d ignore him.

Daphne would warn me, too.

_ “Please be careful,” _ she’d say. _ “You’re flammable.” _

And Fiona gets on me about it, sometimes, if she’s smoking in the house. 

_ “Jesus fucking Christ, Baz. You are flammable.” _

They warned me about fire. Warned me and scolded me, and tried to make me stop using it. (I can’t just stop! It’s not that simple.)

They warned me about real fire. The physical kind.

They forgot to tell me about the world. About how there are people out there who are just like fire. 

Simon.

He’s the sun. He shines the brightest at Watford. He’s radiant and beautiful, and golden. He leads the way, marches on toward the light.

The sun is fire.

Fire. Fire is hot. Fire can burn me. 

Simon. Simon is the sun. Simon is fire. 

Simon can burn me.

I get too close. I get in his orbit, in his way. And then I can feel the heat he emits, that’s always radiating from him. 

I’ve been playing with fire for the past year. I’ve been playing with him, playing some stupid game where nothing makes sense except for him. 

I’m in love with fire, with the sun. 

I’m in love with Simon.

And he fucking hates me. He hates me, and he’s run off with the Mage because of it.

I want to hate him. I really, really do. I want to give up, to stop loving him. I want to forget everything that’s ever happened between us. I hate him, and I want to burn at his hands. 

I don’t know what to do with myself now. 

I’m still standing in the library. I haven’t moved.

I don’t know where to go. 

I can’t go back to my room. It’ll remind me too much of Simon. And I don’t want to think about Simon right now.

Except…I do.

I want to figure out why left and why he lied to me. I want to know why he fucking hates me, even after everything that happened this summer. 

Simon Snow knows how I feel about him. He knows that I love him. He knows, and he took my feelings and used them against me.

He lit a fucking fire and took off, leaving me helpless and disoriented. He left me in a state of doubt and pain, and _ hurt _.

Good. That’s what he wanted. He wanted me like this, he wanted me to get hung up over him and cry when he left.

I’m not crying, that’s for sure. But that doesn’t mean this hurts any less. 

Simon Snow wants me dead, whether he knows it or not. The Mage wants me dead. That means Simon does, too.

Vampires burn. It’s one of the only efficient ways to kill them. 

They wanted me to burn. 

_ He _ wanted me to burn.

I am.

**Simon**

We’re walking. (I don’t know why. I’m sure the Mage could summon a magickal car or broomstick if he wanted. But, no.)

We’re walking through the fucking woods, and each step I take is getting me further away from Baz. The longer I walk, the more I realise how trapped I am, and how badly I want to run away.

I always thought that the Mage knew what was best for me. Ever since I was eleven, he’s been there, leading the way and telling me what was right and what was wrong. He was the one who brought me to Watford, who showed me what I really was and what I could really do.

I met Penny because of the Mage. And Agatha. I met so many new people here, and they all seemed to like me well enough. I made friends. Real friends! People who actually like me for me, and who aren’t just listening to me because they’re scared. They listen because they care, and they want to know what I have to say.

I know I should be grateful for that. And I am. He introduced me to the place where I belong, where I actually fit in. He taught me (almost) everything I know. He helped me become the mage I am today.

But for some reason this all feels…wrong. So fucking wrong. Everything has felt so wrong lately, and I don’t know what to do about it.

Nothing has felt right since 5th year. 

It all started that night, after the fight with the chimera. It all started with Baz, who climbed into my bed and ran his fingers through my hair until I fell asleep. He whispered sweet nothings into my ear until I was too tired to understand what he was saying.

Nothing about that night felt right. Nothing felt normal.

I started thinking about Baz more. 

I wanted to know why the hell he had done that. I wanted to know why he pushed me down the stairs, and why he would lose his composure and go all soft and call me Simon. I wanted to know every single one of his fucking secrets, and he wouldn’t give in. 

And then I read his diary. (I laugh about that, sometimes. Baz has a _ diary _ ! It’s kind of funny. He seems like the least likely person to have a diary.) I read his diary and learned that he loved me, and then I couldn’t get that thought out of my head. I couldn’t get _ him _ out of my head. (I still can’t.)

Crowley, I think Baz is the only thing that feels _ right _.

He’s been the one constant this past year, the one thing that hasn’t managed to slip out of my fingers. He hasn’t left me yet, despite how much of an actual mess I am. He’s loved me through all of it. 

He loves me. 

And I?

I…

No. 

Shit. 

The Mage has always told me to be careful, that I might end up the pawn in some elaborate scheme. And I trusted him. Of course I did. I _ had _ to.

What I didn’t realise is that the Mage is _ using me _ in _ his game _. In his elaborate scheme. That’s all this is. It’s some stupid fucking rivalry with the Old Families, and now Baz and I have been swept into the drama, just because we’re the next in line. 

It’s fucking bullshit.

I really don’t know how I could’ve been so stupid. So stupid and naive and young and dumb. (Well, I do know. But still. That doesn’t mean this hurts any less.) 

I’ve walked all these miles because it’s what the Mage told me to do. I hated Baz for years because the Mage told me I had to, and that Baz might kill me someday. (Boy, was he _ wrong _.) I’ve done this and that, killed this monster and fought another one, all because I was told to. Because I was told to, and I didn’t have anyone else to turn to for help. No one else to stop me, or say no to me.

I followed the Mage blindly for years. 

Baz opened my eyes, and now I can finally see that it’s all a lie. Everything with the Mage. And that fucking hurts.

We’re still walking. The Mage is still a few feet ahead of me. That hasn’t changed.

And I know that if I don’t do something soon, I’ll be surrendering. Willingly going along with the Mage and what he says. And I _ really _ don’t want to do that.

Baz was right all along, the tosser. He knew. His family knew.

Maybe that’s why I felt so at home with them this summer. Maybe that’s why I was so scared of leaving. Everything felt _ right _ with them. (Nothing has felt right with the Mage. Ever.)

I don’t have to be here. I don’t have to be living the story the Mage created for me.

I am my own person. I can make my own choices, I can feel what’s right and what’s wrong. I can do what I want and when I want to. 

I didn’t know that I could, and now I do. 

Now I _ know _ what I want. 

_ Baz… _

_ Baz who loves me. _

_ Baz. _

_ Baz who I… _

“I can’t,” I say, stopping abruptly. “I can’t do this.”

The Mage spins on his heels, turning to look at me. “Don’t be silly, now. Come on. We’ve still got quite the walk.”

“No, sir, I don’t think you understand. I. Can’t. Do this.”

“You can and you will,” he says, inching closer to me, reaching in his tunic for his wand.

“For years I believed every word you said. I trusted you! And you were just using me. Because you could. Because I was young and vulnerable, and you needed _ someone _.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Simon,” the Mage snaps. “How could I ever do that? Why in the world would I manipulate a young boy”

“To get what you want,” I growl. “But guess what.”

“What?”

“You haven’t got anything.”

**Baz**

Simon Snow. I don’t actually hate him. I never could.

It was all an act, all those years. I put on a mask, something to protect myself from him. I knew he would hurt me if I let him.

And I let him. 

I let him in, and he _ did _ hurt me.

I hate him for hurting him. Or, I think I do.

I don’t hate him. 

I love him, and I think that’s why this hurts so badly. His absence makes my heart ache, and I feel like I’m missing something. Because I am. I’m missing _ Simon _.

Crowley. The more I think of Simon, the more I fall in love with him, despite everything that’s gone on today. 

I love his hair. It’s curly and golden, and soft to touch. He lets me run my fingers through it, and it’s heavenly. It’s a bit longer now. He hasn’t gotten it cut in a while. It’s longer on the sides, and the top of his head is a tangled mess.

I love his eyes. His ordinary, blue eyes. They’re the most boring, normal shade, but they’re special and beautiful just because they’re his.

I love his moles and freckles, dotted on his body, like the constellations in the sky. Simon is the sun, a star, with star shaped freckles all over. I tried to kiss every one of them, but the task proved to be more difficult than I had expected.

Simon is beautiful in every single way.

I love his voice. It’s raspy in the mornings, and it always gets softer when he talks to me, when he’s kissing me and telling me how much I mean to him. 

I love that he’s always so warm. He’ll touch me, and it’s like sparks are flying. I’m so cold and he’s so warm, and it’s perfect in almost every way.

Merlin, I love him so, so much. So painfully.

I told him that I loved him. I told him all the time. I tried to make sure he knew that I loved every part of him, no matter what. I wanted him to know that I was honest and true. 

Every morning, I would wake up, and whisper in his ear. I would hold his hand and rub circles on his palm. I would shower him in kisses-- all across his forehead, down his chest, on all of his moles. (There’s one on his cheek. I’ve wanted to kiss it since I was 12. So I did. Because it was there, and because I was able to. That’s my favourite place to kiss him.)

Every evening we would kiss, and kiss and kiss… 

We kissed and kissed. We were left breathless, gasping for air. He’d rub my stomach and I’d comb through his hair with my fingers, and it was all _ so good _. 

And then something changed.

We decided to be boyfriends. And that was good. _ We _ were good.

And now? Now I don’t know…

I still love him. I’d still kiss him and shower him with affection if he comes back.

But the fact that he left without a word, without a look… 

I don’t know how to deal with that.

I’m convinced it’s because he doesn’t think I’m worth it. (To be fair, I don’t think I’m worth it. But it’s nice to be wanted. To be told that you’re worth it.)

He left. He left, and I can only assume it’s because he doesn’t love me, and that he doesn’t care as much as I thought he did. As much as I hoped he did. He left, and fuck, I’m usually one to come up with a plan, but I don’t know where to go from here. I don’t know what to do, or think.

Simon Snow was the only thing that felt _ right _. Even though our worlds were falling apart, he was there beside me, sharing my path. 

That was nice. Having him was nice.

I miss him.

I miss him, and I love him, and everything hurts. 

He’s the sun. I’m the moon. I’m in his orbit, getting pulled in by gravity. The universe meant for this to happen, just like the stars and the trees, and everything else that lives and breathes.

Simon Snow built me up. He made me believe that I could make it through the day without burning. He made me feel cherished, loved. He made me feel more myself than ever.

And now he’s ruined me. I’ve fallen to the ground, caught on fire. He’s burning me as we speak, and I’m falling for him, harder and more desperately than ever. 

I want Simon to come back home. 

I want him to realise that he wants me and that he needs me, and that he loves me.

I don’t know if he will, though.

Wants and needs are different. I learned that the hard way.

What I want may not be what Simon needs.

What I need may not be what Simon wants. 

How will I survive without Simon Snow? How will I survive knowing he’s not right by my side, holding my hand? How can I move on? How can I just forget about him?

I can’t. I won’t. 

Simon Snow will always be the centre of my universe. He’ll always be in the back of my head, reminding me all the things I feel for him. He’ll always be a part of me, and I’ll always want to tell him how much I love him and how much he means to me.

I might not be worth it to Simon Snow, but he’ll always be worth it to me.

I’d cross every line for him. I’d do anything for him, to make sure that he’s okay. 

I’m in love with him. I’m in love, and it hurts so fucking bad.

But that doesn’t matter.

Love is love. 

You can’t pick and choose who you love.

I can’t choose to love Simon, but I’ll embrace it. Because I do love him. It’s the truth. 

I miss Simon Snow, and I love him, and that’s okay.

I’m burning now. All because of him.

**Simon**

“Simon, I don’t know what kind of nonsense those Pitches got you to believe, but--”

“_No_!” I exclaim. “They didn’t tell me anything. In fact, I’m pretty sure they hate me still. _You’re_ the one who’s been controlling me all these years. _You’re_ the one who’s told me what to think of everything, and I’m so fucking tired of it.”

“That’s it,” the Mage says. His voice is barely a whisper. “You’ll do what I say. You’ll listen to me, and follow my orders.”

And then he raises his wand, and points it at me.

“Mark my words, _ Chosen One _.” He’s spitting the words out, now. I can hear the bitterness in his voice. “I’ll make you sorry for what you’ve done.”

“No, you won’t,” I say.

I think of Baz.

I think of Baz and how much he means to me. I think about how far away he is, and all I want to do is go back and make sure he’s okay. All I want to do is shower him in kisses and tell him how I really feel.

Baz.

I think being away from him made me realise that I love him. I really do.

I love Baz Pitch with my whole heart, and not even the Mage can change that.

Suddenly, there’s an itching sensation in my back. It itches, and then it burns, and then suddenly there are _ wings _.

_ Wings! _

_ Wings, _ all red and leathery, just like a dragon’s. There’re spikes at the tips, and-- 

Holy shit. 

I have a fucking tail. (A tail? No. Surely not…) (I reach down and touch it.) (Okay, yup. I have a fucking _ tail _.)

The Mage looks paralyzed. I think he might be scared, and truthfully, I don’t blame him. I’d be scared too, if someone was standing in front of me and then they grew fucking wings and a tail. 

I just… 

Wow. Okay. 

“Starting here,” I say to the Mage. “Starting now.” I can feel myself standing straighter, talking more clearly, as if these wings are some sort of superpower. “I make my own choices. And I’m choosing to leave you.”

The Mage goes to say something, but I ignore him. (Crowley, that felt _ good _.)

My wings start flapping back and forth, slowly at first, but they get faster and faster. It doesn’t take long before my feet are off the ground. I’m as high as the trees, higher now, and higherl. I fly higher and higher, and I keep going until I can touch the clouds (literally). 

Merlin, this feels so fucking good. So right.

I think about Baz again. I think about him and how he loves me, and how I love him. I think of all the things I didn’t let myself when I was younger.

My wings know where to go. All I do is think of Baz, and then I’m flying in what feels like the right direction, though, I’m not entirely sure which way that is. I don’t know how these wings work. (Magick. Definitely magick.) But I’m not complaining.

Baz. Crowley, I hope he’s okay. I’m sure he is.

I wanted to go see him before I left. I really did.

The Mage, though. He ruined that for me, didn’t he?

He ruined my whole relationship with Baz. I remember.

I tried to be nice to him those first few days at school. Baz wasn’t totally rude at first. He wasn’t acting like a stuck up prick, anyway. We were civil. We made peace. It was a truce, of some sorts.

And then when the Mage found out that Baz was my roommate, he told me all about him. Who he really was, and what he wanted to do to me. What I was supposed to do to him.

Of course I hated Baz! The Mage told me he wanted to fucking _ kill me _! What else was I supposed to do? Shrug it off and pretend everything was fine? Besides, I think anyone would get upset over that. Over hearing that someone wants you dead.

I certainly got upset.

Picked a fight with Baz whenever I could. I punched him once, while we were third years. Broke his nose and everything. Threw a book at him, too. The Anathema got me for that one-- my hand was frozen for a few days.

And then I started fighting dragons and goblins, and almost forgot about Baz. Until he set a fucking chimera on me and pushed me down the stairs. Then, I remembered. 

We’re at _ war _. 

Someday, I’ll have to fight Baz in the same way I’m fighting all these creatures. Someday, it won’t be a silly little game. Someday, it’s going to matter, and one of us will end up dead.

That was all before we kissed.

I haven’t been the same since.

I don’t want to go back to how things were. I don’t like how I was so convinced that I had to kill Baz. I hate that I believed all of that prophecy bullshit, but now I know.

I love Baz. 

He’s the only thing I’m sure about.

So I fly faster. I have to get to him. I have to tell him everything. How I feel about him. He needs to know what he means to me. He is worth the struggle this is bound to be. 

I’ve never been kissed the way Baz kisses me. I’ve never been touched the way Baz touches me, and I certainly have never been loved the way Baz loves me.

He’s so true and so…good.

He’s so good, and I’m so in love with him, and _ fuck _ , he needs to know that I feel the same. If i don’t tell him, I might lose him. And I _ can’t _ lose him. Absolutely the fuck not.

I try not to think.

Everything’s all jumbled in my head, and nothing seems to make sense.

Except Baz. He’s the only thing that makes sense.

Fuck it.

I stop trying not to think.

Thoughts flood my brain, like a tsunami.

And Baz…

Baz, Baz Baz… 

**Baz**

_ Banish’d from her is self from self: a deadly banishment! _

It’s Shakespeare, from _ The Two Gentlemen of Verona. _

Daphne used to read that to me before bed, when I was old enough to understand it. And that line always stuck out to me.

I wasn’t sure why. I thought I just liked it, which I do. But now it _ means _ something to me. Now, I understand what it’s saying. 

_ Absence from those we love is self by self - a deadly banishment. _

I’m tired of walking helplessly around Watford without a purpose, so I go down to the White Chapel to visit my mother.

I bring flowers. I stay and hunt, feeding on some rats. Blood gets under my nails. (That hasn’t happened since I was young.)

I go down to dinner with Dev and Niall, though I don’t end up eating anything. I’m too full. And thinking about Simon’s making my stomach feel funny.

I feel like shit. I look like it, too. Dev and Niall tell me so.

I head to my room early tonight.

I’m already in bed and the sun hasn’t even started to set, but I don’t care. I don’t care about anything except Simon Snow and why he left. (I know why he left. But still. I want him to tell me why.)

Oh, Simon Snow. 

I knew it would end in flames with you.

I knew that nothing would go right, but I still wanted to try. 

He’s gone, and I’m alone, and I’m so painfully, hopefully in love. 

He’s gone. He didn’t even say goodbye.

I pull the covers closer to my chest. Simon (the cat) lays down near my head. I can hear him purring softly.

I close my eyes.

_ Banish’d from her is self from self: a deadly banishment! _

I’ve always known that Simon Snow was going to kill me. I didn’t know how, or when. I just knew that one day we would go against each other, and he would be the victor. 

I think his absence might kill me. I might go mad knowing that he’s gone. (I’ve heard of people dying because of a broken heart . I wonder if that works with vampires as well.)

Simon Snow will be the death of me. I can almost guarantee it.

There’s a knock at the door, and I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. 

Is that him? Is he back? Aleister Crowley, if it’s him…

What do I say? What should I do? Kiss him? Yell at him for leaving?

I jump out of bed, and my hand hovers over the doorknob. I let out a breath, and open.

It’s the Mage. And he’s got his wand pointed at my chest. 

  


**Simon **

There’s something about being in the sky that I find so relaxing.

Maybe it’s the way the wind blows through my hair. Maybe it’s being so high, so out of reach. So free. Maybe it’s because I feel like I’m in control up here.

And I do. I’ve never felt more in control of my magick. 

Usually I feel all hot and stuffy. My magick leaks, and everything smells like smoke. (Baz always used to yell at me when my magick leaked. Said I had to learn to control it better. He’s been nice about it, recently, thank Crowley.)

The air is clearer up here. The sun is out, and there’s a rush of wind, and endless miles of blue and white.

I think I felt the same way when I helped Baz earlier. When I gave him my magick. 

He could feel it too, I’m pretty sure. He seemed to stand straighter. His voice got louder, and he put more meaning into the words.

I liked that. Helping Baz, instead of trying to hurt him.

Man…

With my power and his intelligence, the Humdrum doesn’t stand a chance. And neither does this fucking war.

Maybe we’ll show everyone that not everything needs to be fought out. We’ll show everyone that nothing has to end in flames, in death, in the destruction of the magickal world.

That’s wishful thinking. 

I’m sure the Mage is on his way back to Watford, probably to find me. And Baz. And maybe Penny. And Agatha? And Dev and Niall, and everybody else who knew that Baz and I were together.

No. He can’t do that. I won’t let him.

Faster. Further. Stronger.

I keep flying. I keep going, only because I know Baz is there, at Watford, and so are all of my friends. They’re all there, and I don’t know if I could ever forgive myself if I let the Mage do anything to hurt them. 

I want them all to be safe. I want this war to be over, and for everything to be okay.

I’m thinking again, and it’s getting overwhelming.

So I stop.

I only let myself think about Baz. I think about these giant fucking wings I conjured for myself, and I imagine the look on Baz’s face when he sees them.

_ “Crowley, Snow,” he’ll say, gaping at me. _

But he’ll still pull me close to his chest, and leave a kiss on my forehead. I’ll still take his hands and warm them, and somehow we’ll make the wings go away. (And the tail! This blasted tail. It’s fucking useless.)

Baz is okay. Penny is okay. Agatha, and Dev, and Niall. They’re all okay.

Everything _ has _ to be okay.

I’ll find Baz. We’ll figure out a way to stop this fucking war and live our lives the way we want to. We’ll finish school, and get a flat, maybe in London.

Everything will better once I’m with Baz again. I know it will.


End file.
